Yesterday I started the process for donating bone marrow for my brother, who has for several years now been dying in pieces. I’m a 100% genetic match for him which is good, and greatly increases his odds of survival. The process itself involves about a pint and a half of blood given for testing in about 40 of those little color coded vials you see lying around the doctors office. Then a chest Xray to confirm the existence of and health of my spleen, and an EKG – ditto for my heart. (Longtime readers will be interested to know that contrary to the claims of my occasional critics, I do in fact possess one and it has been confirmed by modern medicine.)
Then after insurance company sign-off on the testing result, I get a series of injections, 3 per day, self administered for 4 days, in order to get my body to overproduce whatever it is that my brother will need, so that I can spare enough of whatever it is without dying from lack of it myself. The injections have a series of painful side effects, which I’m told will worsen each day. They offered me an Oxy scrip to address them, which I have already refused. Alcohol, drugs and any other painkillers are forbidden during the process, even aspirin.
Then on the day subsequent to the last set of injections, I report to the hospital at 7:30 AM, to be connected to what amounts to a dialysis machine for the better part of 2 days, where they will take whatever it is exactly, store it in a fridge for a day, and the pump it all into my brother to replace his own bone marrow. They’ll be making room for it in him by using chemo to kill his own bone marrow, all while I’m enduring my shots.
This is all fine. His odds are excellent, he’s the toughest man I know, and I’m probably the only person in my family who isn’t at all worried about the whole thing medically. What bothers me is this.
I haven’t spoken to my father in 17 years, and have lain eyes on him only once during that entire period. I don’t expect to see him during this adventure either. But in a few months, once my brother is returned to health, my father will begin his process, currently still in the planning stages, designed to demonize me in my family as a selfish, malignant bastard for donating my bone marrow in the first place. This may seem like a stretch, but I assure you it isn’t. What’s more, he knows his audience so well that he will at the very least create enough doubt in the minds of my family, to convince them all that I and my motives should be regarded as suspect at the very least.
I’m not bothered by this soon to be occurring effort. I believe I understand why my father will feel need to do this. Some people, there is no fixing and my father is nothing if not one of those. I’m not even bothered by the fact that it will be much more successful than anyone reading this believes. What bothers me is, I don’t know how exactly he’s going to do it yet. I don’t understand how enduring the inconvenience and pain of a totally unnecessary multi-day procedure for the medical benefit of someone else can be spun as an evil act. But sure as the sunrise, I know it’s coming. Believe it or not, I’ve all been in this situation before. And like I said, there is no fixing some people.
If you’re a betting man, you too are probably a little despondent. The odds slightly favor a Hillary win today, and that will mean 4 more years of public policy delusion, where the motives of men are based on nothing but the imagination of women. Fake racism, fake misogyny, fake fear and fake hate. More condescension about being bitter and clinging. The psychological projection will be rampant. Losers in all endeavors will blame all their loss on the winners, and the government will struggle mightily to find ways to tip the scales further to their benefit.
Being a relatively normal white, heterosexual male will continue to be the one thing that the federal government is dedicated to stamping out. That may not seem logical to you, but it’s certain. You cannot have a hero unless you have a villain, and the Democrats all imagine themselves as heroes regardless of their pronounced lack of actual heroism. Think of a Hillary win as more "Heroine addiction". A Hillary win will mean the concept of individual agency will be further suspended, and we’ll all go a little deeper down the narcissistic post-existential rabbit hole.
But even if Trump wins, the world will not be as we wish it to be. America is a severe debt junkie with a decades long habit. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen someone going through heroin withdrawal but it’s not a pretty sight, and at some point in the future we have something similar to look forward to as a culture. We supporters of his like to believe that Trump will simply throw out the people who demand the most for doing the least and get the Washington boot off the private sector neck. But even if he were to do only that, the withdrawal will be painful and messy.
I’m still hoping for a Trump win of course, because it’s the right course for our country. But if he wins, I think the term ‘least bad option’ will have a totally new and much more personal meaning for many Americans.
People die from heroin withdrawal. It’s not common but it happens. Countries can die from debt withdrawal too, and I would prefer that not happen to this one. That’s mostly sentimental on my part because I think the founders did such a nice job with the last country that it would be a shame to flush it all down the toilet for a government built by the deep philosophers of the congressional black caucus and the SEIU.
That’s the main reason I prefer Trump over Hillary. Because I believe that facing down that painful and unhappy fact today involves a better chance for survival than if we did the same after another 4 (or more) years of delusion. We’ll survive, we the people. Or at least nearly all of us. I don’t expect too much more actual blood in the streets than we have already. But our government as founded, may very well not. And that’s true whether we do it today or at some unforeseen point in the post Hillary future.
So that’s my thoughts this election day. Don’t worry, it’s temporary. Whatever it is, I’ll get over it. I always do. It’s the American way.
Here’s hoping you have more reason for personal optimism than I do.